Bumbling
by Hydrochloric Cutie
Summary: What happens when Hermione asks Ron for help? Can he step up the challenge?


Bumbling

'Dear Ronald,

Meet me in the Room of Requirement at 8 tonight. I need to discuss something with you of the utmost importance.

Love,

Hermione'

Ron was still looking at this note from his bushy haired best friend after two hours, puzzling over how he felt about her. There was ten minutes before he was supposed to meet her, and he figured it would take him as long to get up to the elusive meeting room. He let out a loud sigh before he hoisted himself up out of 'his' arm chair in front of the fire place.

"Where you goin'?" Harry asked, finally taking his eyes off his long potions essay.

"I have to go meet Hermione in ten minutes," Ron replied, stretching his arms over his head and his shoulders cracked rather loudly, scaring a few first years. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, made to leave the common room.

"I'll see you later then," Harry said, a knowing look in his eye. Hermione had confused him earlier about this little meeting, asking his opinion on the matter. Ron nodded, getting a weird feeling in the back of his mind that Harry knew something he didn't.

it took Ron less time than he thought to reach the intangible Room of Requirement on the seventh floor, because he remembered a few secret passageways that he had long forgotten about. He reached the blank stretch of corridor, across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmey. Ron walked back and forth in front of a blank stretch of land where the door was supposed to be three time, thinking, 'I need to see the place where Hermione is. I need to see the place where Hermione is. I need to see the place where Hermione is.'

He walked past the stretch for the third time, and a large, ornate wooden door had appeared. He quickly opened it and hurried inside, fearing that Mr. Filch would catch him (he didn't bother to get the Marauders Map from Harry to check). The room had dim lighting and there was a bed, with what looked like gray silk sheets, off in a shadowy corner of the small room. There was a roaring fire and a love seat positioned right in front of it, Hermione was seated on the far left of it. Her knees were drawn to her chest, her eyes staring blankly ahead. "Hermione? Are you okay?" Ron asked worriedly.

Her head snapped up at the sound of his baritone voice. "Oh, hi Ron, I'm fine. Glad you could come really."

"What did you wanna talk about?" he asked, walking over and standing next to her love seat.

"Sit down? Please?" she asked, her large chocolate brown eyes pleading with him. He obliged her.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I j—just think I need your h—help with something," she stammered.

"Seriously?" Ron chuckled. "You need MY help?"

"If you don't want to help me, then that's fine, I understand," she said somberly.

"No, no, I just was makin' sure you were serious. I mean, it's normally me asking you for help."

"It's just… *sigh* I know something's gonna happen, soon, I just know it," Hermione said nervously, but quietly. "I don't want to die knowing that I haven't truly lived and haven't experienced things."

"You're not gonna die," Ron said adamantly

"We don't know that," she pointed out lightly. "I just don't want to die without knowing…"

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"I don't want to die without knowing what its like to make love to someone," she said deliberately, but Ron could tell from her voice that she was really nervous about this. She was so afraid of what he would say; so anxious to know what it would feel like.

"Oh," Ron said, completely speechless after this admission. He stared at her, studying the disappointed look on her face, as well as her blush of embarrassment as it crossed her face. She mumbled an apology and made to get up. "Wait."

Ron put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her back down to sit on the love seat. "I'm so sorry, this was a rather stupid idea," she muttered.

"No, it's not a stupid idea," Ron soothed. "I was just surprised that you'd come to me for help with this, especially after the whole Lavender Incident. I thought you'd go to Harry first, honestly."

"I love Harry and all, but he's more like a brother to me," she clarified. "Plus, I think he and Luna have been shacking up for the past two months."

"Really," Ron asked.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Why me though?" he questioned.

"Well, you're one of my best friends, I trust you with my life, and I can't imagine sharing this with anyone else," she said sincerely. "And I know you have experience already, so you can show me what to do."

"You know I'd do anything for you," Ron said. Hermione gave a watery chuckle and leaned over to hug him.

"You always know how to take care of me," she said.

He then helped her up from the couch, so they could walk over to the large bed. He stood behind her, wrapping Hermione in his arms. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah," she nodded, turning around in his arms and looking up at his face.

"H-have you ever kissed anyone before?" he asked, putting one arm around her waist, and one hand caressed her left cheek. She shook her head, then blushed pink from embarrassment. "Then I hope this will be perfect for you."

His skilled fingers tilted her chin up to him, and he leaned down, touching his lips lightly to hers. She didn't have the experience that Ron had, but she had kept her bookworm title by researching the topic thoroughly. Hermione slid her hands slowly up his chest, ending up clasped together behind his neck. Ron started moving his lips against hers gently, making sure that she enjoyed everything and felt comfortable with it before he moved on. Hermione on the other hand, felt like he was going far too slow, so she pulled herself closer to him; her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and her pelvis pressed tighter to his. He got the hint and traced his tongue along the seam of her lips, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

Deepen it he did, once she allowed him access to her mouth. His tongue explored her mouth thoroughly. Being with Lavender, for that short amount of time, helped him refine his technique and give him experience in all aspects of a physical relationship. No longer did it look like he was eating her face; he looked like someone who knew what he was doing. Ron was surprised that she knew how to kiss back as well as she was, caressing his tongue with hers. They went along with the kiss as long as they had oxygen to fuel them.

"You read a few books, didn't you?" Ron asked as they broke apart. She nodded quietly and she chuckled, nuzzling his nose against hers. "You're too cute, you know that?" she shrugged. "You are beautiful, and don't let anyone tell you different."

She smiled up at him and leaned in to kiss him again. He smiled against her lips for her boldness. His hand traveled down to the hem of her shirt and slipped his hand underneath, coming into contact with the smoothest skin he could ever imagine. His right hand moved from her face to her hair, feeling the silkiness he hadn't expected to be there. He never really got a chance to truly look at Hermione; she had always been there, always been one of his best friends. It was now that he saw that she had really grown up: she had gotten a inches taller, while he had grown a full foot; her hair had gotten manageable and she had it cut to just below her shoulders, his was to just below his ears – much to the chagrin of his mother, and the insistence of Hermione and his sister -; she filled out with nice curves, ones that you couldn't readily see due to her big baggy robes. Now she was wearing Muggle clothes (low-rise jeans, and a red form fitting t-shirt) and he could see it all. Her hips weren't overly large like Lavender's, but not stick skinny like Romilda Vane's. Her chest was fuller than most of Hogwarts (the only person bigger was Millicent Bulstrode) and her stomach was slightly rounded. Ron liked his girls a bit curvier than most, mainly because he was so large (standing at 6'5"), so he didn't feel like he was going to break them.

"Mione?" Ron murmured against her lips as they caught their breath, leaning their foreheads against one another's.

"Mmm?" she mumbled.

"Can I, er…?" He now seemed very awkward. "Do you want to go on with this?"

"Yes," she said. "I can't imagine doing this with anyone else." Ron smiled his oh-so-sexy lopsided smile and hauled her, by her hips, closer to him. He kissed her. Hard. She felt the real passion behind this kiss, his hands slipping down lower to her firm arse. He always enjoyed watching girls walked behind Hermione, not only because he was just the 'tip' of their 'triangle', but because – best friend or not – she had the best arse at Hogwarts. The guys in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw even had to admit it.

Hermione was always self-conscious about her weight, mainly due to the fact that most other Gryffindor girls were stick skinny. But the way Ron's hands were now roaming her body, she felt like a goddess, and he was worshiping her body. His hands were rather large – what part of him wasn't? – and they were calloused over from his Quidditch training. The roughness felt like liquid ecstasy over her skin.

Ron's hand found it's way under her shirt again and it traveled its way up to cup her breast reverently through the soft cotton material of her bra. She moaned into his mouth, pushing her breasts closer to his hand, wanting the sensation from the pressure of his hand. He squeezed firmly and she threw her head back. Ron took advantage of her bare throat and kissed her there. His lips trailed down from her ear, which he nipped the lobe, all the way down to where her neck met her shoulder. He pulled away from her and looked into her chocolate brown eyes. "Can I…" he asked, tugging gently at her shirt.

"Go ahead," she said quietly. He swallowed noticeably and began to pull her shirt up. He guided it over her stomach and she aided him by lifting up her arms above her head when he reached her chest. Once he tossed the short on the floor beside them, he looked down at the witch he just revealed.

Hermione stood there, perfectly still, in her simple, light-blue, cotton bra. Ron took in the sight in front of him, resting his hands on her waist. She looked down in shame, but he tilted her head up, forcing her to look at his crystal blue eyes. "Beautiful," he murmured, kissing her forehead.

"I'm nothing special," she said.

"Yes, you are," Ron insisted. "You are so special. Any guy would be luck to have you."

"And I choose you," she said, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him hard on the mouth. He pulled her closer to him and she began to take a bit of initiative of her own. Hermione grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt and began yanking it up over his head. On helped her rid himself of the bothersome garment. She ran her hands down his broad chest. He pulled her closer, letting skin touch skin. She gasped.

Ron's hands returned to her breast, not able to maneuver better without her shirt on. Suddenly, Ron had his hand under the back of her left leg and one hand on her back, picking her up. He crawled on the bed and laid her down in the center of it. Hermione looked like an angel to him, in all her still innocent glory. He lowered himself down and pressed her gently into the mattress, letting her feel part of his secure weight. He kissed her briefly on the lips before pulling back. "Are you still okay with this?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, now get back down here, I'm cold," she teased.

"Oh, you're real funny," Ron said before leaning back down to kiss her hard. Her hands pressed on his back to push him closer to her. He broke away from her lips and trailed then trailed down her throat. He nipped a soft spot behind her hear and she cried out.

"What's wrong?" Ron said, pulling back and sitting on his haunches.

"Nothing, I just wasn't expecting that," she said, sitting up as well.

"I'm sorry, I'm still kinda new at this, I was always told what to do," Ron said sheepishly.

"No previous experience here," Hermione said, raising her hand slightly and chuckling. Hermione scooted her legs from under him and he pulled her to straddle his legs now. His large hand splayed across her lower back and pulled her closer. Her pelvis was now situated directly over his, and she could feel the arousal he was starting to feel. She wound her arms around his neck as they kissed, languidly at first but soon became frantic. The hand that was on her lower back was now on her arse, trying to push her closer. His other hand was pulling down her bra straps and trailing his lips over the newly exposed skin. She was pressing his head closer to her, not wanting the feeling of his lips on her body to stop. His hands moved to the back of her bra, fumbling with the clasp while sucking lightly on the top of her breast, leaving a faint reddish, purplish mark.

"Need help?" she panted out, her blood pounding.

"Nah, got it," he mumbled into her collarbone. A few seconds later she felt the tension of the bra slacken, meaning he had finally succeeded in the unclasping it. He learned back, a hungry look in his eye, and drew the bra down her arms. She blushed when he looked at her, but his eyes didn't waver from hers. He had one hand on her hip and one cradling her cheek. This hand trailed down the side of her neck in a gentle caress, moving over her shoulder and down to cup her bare breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple. She gasped, involuntarily pushing herself closer to him.

"Mmm," he growled. "Absolutely perfect." She smiled and leaned in to kiss with him. He returned the kiss and laid them back so he was nestled between her jean-clad legs. She arched her head back when he kissed her throat, pausing to suckle lightly over her pulse point. Ron continued down to her breasts. He breathed hotly on her nipple before taking it in his mouth, suckling it to a hardened protruding nub. Once he released it, he blew cold air on it, causing Hermione to shiver with arousal.

He kissed the valley between her breasts and followed a trail all the way down to her belly button, where he nuzzled his nose a bit. Usually Hermione is ticklish but now it felt nothing like a tickle. He kissed his way down her torso, still kissing her through the jeans she wore. His fingers deftly ran down her sides and unbuttoned her pants. Slowly he lowered the zipper and kissed the little white bow that graced the front of her matching knickers. "Okay?" he asked as he drew the jeans down her slender legs. She nodded. Eventually all she wore was her light blue cotton knickers.

"This isn't fair, you're still dressed more than me," she teased, rolling them over to undo his jeans and pushed them roughly down his long legs. "Quidditch was really good to you."

Ron wasn't overly muscular but he had quite a bit; his legs were large and powerful from having to hold on to the broom, his arms were defined from the manual labor around the Burrow, and his chest/stomach was flat and perfect, with a light dusting of ginger hair. There was also a prominent bulge in his boxers, tenting them quite a lot.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hermione asked, as he rolled them and began to remove her knickers.

"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that?" Ron chuckled and placed his hand on her stomach. He wandlessly, wordlessly cast the contraception spell; a pleasant warmth radiating from his hand to her naval. "Of course I want to, you're so very special to me."

"As long as you're sure. Ohh," she moaned as he ran his forefinger along her slit. Ron smirked at her; this was one of the only times he had ever seen her speechless. He felt how wet she was, just with want for him. He bent down to kiss her as he pushed the finger inside of her. She arched her back, pushing her pelvis more toward his hand. Her inner walls instinctually clamped down on his finger. Ron groaned and began to rub her clit with his thumb, causing Hermione to break the kiss and her head to fall back on the bed sheets.

Ron kissed his way down her neck while working his finger in and out of her. His lips met her breast and he drew her left nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, keeping the peak stiff and erect. He switched breasts and laved at the other nipple with the same passion. Her hands settled on both sides of his head, her fingers running through his hair, pulling him closer to her reacting body. He left her breasts and kissed further down her torso, not covered in a slight sheen of sweat.

Once he reached the light dusting of brown curls at the apex of her thighs, she became nervous. "W-what are you doing?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Just relax," he soothed, leaning down to breathe hotly on her core.

"Ohh!" she cried out when his tongue snaked out and licked her slit from top to bottom. He began to attack her clit, alternating from flicking his tongue over it to sucking gently. After a few minutes of this, he thrust his tongue inside her, tasting her genuinely feminine flavor. By now she was writhing around on the sheets and Ron had to keep his hands on her hips to keep her from bucking into his face.

Her inner walls started to flutter around his tongue and he pulled away. She groaned in disappointment when she felt him kiss his way back up her stomach, past her sensitive breasts, the column of her neck and back to her lips, sharing her own state with her. She thrust her tongue in his mouth, hoping he would get the message to help her finish what he started.

He began to slip his pale green boxers down when Hermione stopped him. "I want to," she said, pushing him on his back. Ron nodded. She caressed her way down his broad chest to the waistband of his boxers, slipping her fingers underneath. When his member sprung out from the confines of the cloth, she inhaled sharply. Not that she had any other reference to compare it to, Ron seemed rather large, and she thought he wouldn't fit.

"Don't worry," Ron said, seeing the look of apprehension on her face. He flipped the back around carefully covering her body with his. "I'll try my hardest not to hurt you."

She nodded and looked him in the eye. Ron guided the head to the entrance and began to push inside. She felt her walls beginning to stretch, almost to the point where it seemed like he wouldn't be able to fit anymore. He stopped and allowed her to get used to the feeling. He really had great self-control to calm the sensations he felt from being inside her tight channel. After a few moments, he moved in more, stretching her even further. She started breathing heavier, but no tears fell from her eyes. He felt the barrier that represented her innocence. "Just put your arms around my neck," Ron warned. She complied with his wished and as soon as she was set, he surged forward, breaking clean through the barrier, fully being embedded in her to the hilt.

He caught her cry of pain with a kiss. Then he kissed away the few tears that escaped the corners of her eyes. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear until the pain receded; she wriggled her hips experimentally. "You okay?"

"Move, please," she pleaded, almost desperately. He complied by pulling back and thrusting forward shallowly. She moaned quite loudly and pushed her hips up to meet his. Ron kept up his movements, slow and steady, letting her feel the sensation fill her from the inside out; forming a ball of energy behind her naval.

Soon, Hermione got a rhythm down, thrusting her hips up to meet his, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin. Ron bent down to kiss her gently, the same passion-filled kiss he first bestowed upon her. His one hand traveled down her torso, to the spot where they were joined. He rubbed her clit, speeding her along the path toward orgasm. He felt his coming on and wanted her to experience all the pleasure sex could bring to someone.

"So close," he murmured, thrusting harder and deeper than before. Hermione cried out in ecstasy.

Suddenly, taking them both by surprise, her orgasm hit them, her inner walls clamping down on his member, sending him over the edge, groaning her name. Once her walls stopped milking his fluid, he pulled out carefully and rolled over onto his side. Her body was slicked with sheen of sweat, her hair slightly damp and spread out on the pillows behind her; she never looked more beautiful to him. He rolled onto his side and drew her to him, cradling her small frame to his larger one, stroking her hair gently as she came back down from her sexual high.

"Oh, wow," she sighed after a minute or two.

"Yeah, wow," Ron agreed, stroking his finger up and down her arm. "How are you feeling?"

Pretty good actually," Hermione iterated. "A bit sore, but a good sore I think."

"That's good," Ron said. He summoned his wand and cast the cleansing spell over both of them. He pulled her even closer, snuggling up against her.

"Thank you," she said.

"Believe me, I should be thanking you," he chuckled. She smacked his arm playfully. "No, seriously, I really mean it."

"Now I can die happy," she sighed contentedly.

"I can't, I still have something I want to do," Ron said.

"Any what's that?" she asked, completely oblivious to the glint in his eye.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked.

"Are you serious?"

"It's been a long time coming, really. I know that if I know I have you, I'll be able to do better when we fight; I know I've asked you out," Ron explained. "I'll know that I wasn't too late."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock at this newest revelation. He stroked a lock of hair out of her face. "You want to be my boyfriend?"

"Absolutely."

"Yes," she squealed, throwing herself on top of him, raining kisses all over his face.

"Jeese, up for seconds already?" he joked, pulling her even closer into a hug.


End file.
